174 t!lmantu of tJje ^vttu 



he would talk to them for an hour at a 

 time. He had quaint names by which 

 he always called them. 



Daisies were stars and pansies were 

 faces. Morning-glories were trumpets 

 and lilies were nice ladies. Dielytra was 

 earrings and peonies were redheads. 

 Dandelions were goldenheads and the 

 buttercups were yellowfaces, while the 

 queer Jack-in-the-pulpit was the little 

 man in the box. 



Birds and squirrels also filled him with 

 unspeakable pleasure, and he would as 

 soon have thought of throwing a stone at 

 Aunt Ruth as at one of them. 



The wind that whispered in the tree 

 tops and the little brook that laughed 

 through the meadows were his soul's 

 delight. 



" How clean and pure everything is in 

 the country. Aunt Ruth," he said. " I 



